


Old Beginnings

by FreshBrains



Series: Femslash 100 Drabble tag 6 [90]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: femslash100, Disability Fest, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Bite, Pre-Canon, Realization, Sad, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not until Erica’s sharpening her skills as a beta does she finally understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xJadedGurlx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xJadedGurlx/gifts).



> For Disability Fest 2015 and the Femslash100 Drabble tag 6 prompt: Erica/Laura - beginning.

After taking the bite, Erica senses there is something familiar about Derek Hale. It feels eerily like the déjà vu she sometimes gets during seizure, but it’s lonelier, with a pang of sadness she can’t recognize.

Not until she’s sharpening her skills as a beta does she finally understand.

Derek smells like pine trees.

*

“You okay, sweetie?”

Erica glances up and immediately feels her cheeks warm—of course she’s sitting on the gas-station curb next to cigarette butts and empty Coke cans, waiting for her mom, when a gorgeous girl with long, dark hair notices her.

She waves absently. “Yeah, I’m just resting.” That was her usual line, but right as she says it, she feels that awful wave run through her head, the one that sometimes meant something bigger was coming. “You know, actually, I’m not. Do you know anything about epilepsy?”

The woman raises a dark eyebrow. “Shit, yeah. Are you okay?” She sits down next to Erica.

“I just had an SFS,” Erica says, trusting Laura to know what she means. “Frontal lobe. I get them a lot. But, uh, sometimes they get bigger. Could you, just, uh…”

The woman nods curtly, eyes kind. “Whatever you need, cutie. I’m not going anywhere.” She settles onto the curb, tucking her legs under her body.

She smiles at the woman, trying to control her eager flush, and notices two things even through her aura—this woman is wearing killer motorcycle boots, and she smells super nice.

Like pine trees.


End file.
